“Before the courts, if necessary.”
“Before the courts would not amount to very much for you; but if you will cease this talk and never open your mouth about all this, whatever it may be, and will give to me, and me only, this proof of which you speak, I will give you ten napoleons.”
For a moment Lambernier gazed at the artist with a singularly penetrating glance.
“So you have two sweethearts, then—one from the city and one from the country, a married woman and this poor girl,” said he, in a jeering tone; “does little Reine know that she is playing second fiddle?”
“What do you mean to insinuate?”
“Oh! you are more clever than I.”
The two men looked at each other in silence, trying to read each other’s thoughts.
“This is a lover of Madame de Bergenheim,” thought Lambernier, with the barefaced impudence of his kind; “if I were to tell him what I know, my vengeance would be in good hands, without my taking the trouble to commit myself.”
“Here is a sneaking fellow who pretends to be deucedly strong in diplomacy,” said Marillac to himself; “but he is revengeful and I must make him explain himself.”
“Ten napoleons are not to be found every day,” continued the carpenter, after a moment’s silence; “you may give them to me, if you like, in a week.”